Murder and Romance
by BenedictedCumberbabe221
Summary: My second Body of Proof fanfiction. Bit of a random story with the team on a case, including relationships of Bud Morris and Samantha Baker as well as Megan and Peter. Budsam/Sambud and Meter.
1. Chapter 1

This morning, as the blazing sun rose, seeping throughout Philly, the trees rustling soothingly in a pleasant, appreciated breeze, Bud Morris readied himself for work, straightening his collar, posing model-like into his full length mirror. He chuckled at his pathetic humour, retrieving his jacket from his bed and slinging it over his arm.

He felt that the gorgeous summer morning promised a quiet, uneventful day at work, with no grossing, depressing deaths with maybe only a few manslaughter cases. After locking the front door, he breathed in the refreshing air, before descending from the porch to his awaiting car and driving his way to work, detouring slightly to pick up his partner, Sam, on the way, as was the usual.

Bud thought of Sam in high regard, grateful for her everlasting loyalty and support through his divorce. He was saddened that he and his wife couldn't figure it out, but was in a way relieved - he didn't think he could stand having to pitch up in motel after motel, every other weekend.

Bud found recently that just thinking of Sam caused him to arrive at work in high spirits. He wasn't absolutely certain what he was feeling; he'd always considered Sam one of his closest friends, but why was he suddenly feeling, so...satisfied and fulfilled, when around her? In any case, he wasn't planning on saying anything to her; he didn't want to ruin their friendship. He put the thoughts out of his mind as he rounded the corner of Sam's street. Routinely, Sam was lingering outside her house. The car rolled to a halt. Sam wore her white shirt, accompanied with her brown leather jacket.

'Good morning, Sam,' Bud greeted as she took up the passenger seat.

'Morning, Bud,' Sam smiled. 'How was your night?'

'As eventful as ever. Had a beer, watched TV. Was your night as riveting as mine?'

'Unfortunately, no.'

'Good to know my life outside of work is more interesting than someone's,' Bud joked.

'Bit early to be thinking about this, but you wanna' get a drink tonight?' Sam questioned.

'What, and miss 'me time' watching prime time television? Of course I will. Anything to get away from another double bill of Desperate Housewives.'

'It's a date then,' Sam concluded, chuckling. 'Never thought you'd be one for Desperate Housewives Bud?'

'Oh yeah. Nothing can beat being updated on the lives of a few crazy women.'

* * *

When they arrived at the office, they were practically ordered to walk straight out and check out a body found in a ditch, reported earlier that morning.

Bud text Megan and Peter, giving them the location.

Seconds after the message had been delivered, Bud's cell vibrated with Peter's reply. 'We'll meet you there - PD' it read.

'Glad someone had an enjoyable night,' Bud chuckled to Sam, making a hardly difficult deduction as to why Peter had text back for both himself and Megan.

'Let me guess, Peter and Megan?'

'Oh yeah.'

'I find them cute together.'

'I feel sorry for the guy,' teased Bud.  
'We better get going.'

They drove to their first cadaver of the day. The area had already been cordoned off, the thicket buzzing with the work of the homicide team. As they approached the perimeter, Bud and Sam brandished their badges and ducked under the ribbon.

The body was not hard to miss.

'Oh God,' Sam muttered.

They stood, shocked at the mutilated child they saw before them.

'And there I was thinking nothing as horrid could happen on such a beautiful day.'

* * *

Megan and Peter entered the area, five minutes later than Bud and Sam; Megan wore her infamous six inch heels. They held each others hand smiling lovingly at one another. Normally, Bud would have thrown a sarcastic, teasing comment at Megan, but the sickening sight of the corpse had dissolved all humour he had in him.

'Good morning Bud, Sam. Where's the body?'

'Just over there. A woman - Dana Bishop - reported the body at about six this morning. You may want to prepare yourself,' Sam muttered. The group shuffled over to the body, Megan gasping at the sight.

There was silence for a few minutes.

'She wasn't killed here,' Megan deduced, pensively. 'But I'd say that it took place somewhere close. The killer would want to be rid of the body quickly for fear that someone would accidently came across it, with he or she as the prime suspect.'  
'We'll see if anyone's reported their child missing,' Bud said monotonously, stepping away from the corpse, bringing his phone to his ear.  
'Poor girl,' Sam whispered.  
'It still fascinates me how somebody could do this to another person, let alone a child,' Peter articulated, an expression of pure disgust warping his features.  
'I'll wait for the body at the morgue,' Megan declared hurrying off to her car.  
'We have the family,' Bud notified, striding back to Sam and Peter. 'The girls name is Cher Warwick, lives two blocks away, so Megan was right.'  
'I better go guys, Megan's waiting for me,' Peter excused himself.

'And we better inform the parents.'

* * *

_Hope you like this, a bit rushed. Started out as Bud and Sam fanfiction, but ended up going into a case. I don't like this, but will carry on as I'm not one to leave something unfinished. Constructive criticism welcome, and if any of those reading this has left comments on my other Body of Proof fanfiction, I thank you; it's greatly appreciated.  
__**Next chapter: Megan ascertains what happened to the deceased, which will be quick and brief because I'm not all medical and I want to focus more on Budsam! **_


	2. Chapter 2

It took Sam and Bud two minutes to arrive at the home of Cher Warwick. The house was large and magnificent; east facing so it glowed in the morning sunshine. A small path of gravel cut through the lush green lawn toward the porch, the garden well-kept and littered with children's toys.  
'This is the worst part of this job,' Sam grumbled, starting to make her way up the path accompanied by Bud.  
'And you'd think we'd be used to it by now,' Bud replied forlornly.  
The doorbell rang and was answered by a woman, possibly in her early 30's, carrying a baby on her hip. Her eyes were dark with sleepless nights, and when she saw their badges she knew instantly there was news of her daughter.  
'Where is she? Where's my daughter? You've found her, right?'  
'Mrs. Warwick, I think it'd be best if you let us come in,' Sam said.  
'Is she waiting in the car? Cher!' she wailed at Bud's empty car on the drive.  
'Please, Mrs. Warwick. Can we come in please,' Bud pressed; he didn't like having to wait - it upset himself more, and knew it dragged it out painfully for the parents.  
'Who's at the door, honey?' A man, presumably the husband, strode along the hall, placing an arm around his wife.  
'Who are you?' he questioned, slightly accusingly, as if the pair had purposefully upset his wife.  
'I'm Detective Bud Morris and this is my partner, Detective Sam Baker. We have some news concerning your daughter, Cher. I think it would be best if we came in and talked with more privacy.'  
'Sure. Come in, come in,' he ushered them, the annoyed expression melting into one of concern and anticipation. 'Take a seat in the living area through there,' he gestured to the door on the left, which Bud and Sam stepped through. 'Naomi, sweetie, take Holly up to bed.' The wife nodded, and ascended the stairs, cradling the baby as if nothing would take her away.  
'Is my baby Cher okay?'  
'I think we should wait for your wife to return, Mr Warwick.'  
The three waited, an austere pressure filling the silence. Sam noticed the husband staring at her from across the coffee table; his face was placid, with hints of pain and sadness, but his eyes were so dark and malicious, she could not believe they belonged to the face of the forlorn father. However, as quickly as she'd assessed his features, the darkness in his eyes vaporized into eyes of pure sorrow and tears. The transition was so swift, Sam doubted that there'd ever been a darkness. She disregarded it as a trick of the light, whilst Naomi stepped into the room, shoulders hunched, dragging her feet behind her. As she approached the leather sofa in which her husband was sat, he spread out his arm and she slumped into his embrace, with no returning of comfort. Her grievous, melancholy eyes met Bud's, and he fought the urge to look away.  
'Where's my Cher?' she whispered so swiftly and lightly the homicide detectives nearly missed the question.  
'We are deeply sorry, but your daughter's body was recovered this morning,' Sam replied, despondency polluting her words. Naomi sat still, staring at Sam, paused in shock before her head fell limply into her partner's chest. Tears blossomed from the husband's eyes, as he held Naomi tightly, kissing the top of her shaking head.  
'Are you sure it's her?' he uttered, his voice breaking.  
'Positive Mr. Warwick. We are truly sorry for your loss. We will find who did this, we can assure you.'  
The detectives gave the pair time to collect themselves as best they could before they continued to the usual questioning procedure.  
'When did you last see Cher,' was Bud's first question. Sam took notes of the answers.  
'Um, it was the night before last,' the husband, Edward, answered with a wavering voice. 'We put her to bed, at about seven o'clock, checked on her when we went to bed, which was about 10. She was fine, but when we woke up, she wasn't in her bed. She wasn't downstairs. We asked the neighbours, they hadn't seen her...' Edward cut off.  
'And, was there anyone who'd want to hurt Cher, or someone who would use Cher to get to you?'  
'No, everyone loved Cher. And we aren't sociable people. We don't mix with others, so there's not many people we can offend.'  
'One more question; was there anyone else that had contact with Cher that day? Family member? Babysitter?'  
'Actually, my brother Caledon, had come over to babysit for an hour whilst myself and Naomi had gone shopping. Why? Do you think he has something to do with this?'  
'We don't know anything yet; we're just gathering as much information as we can that could maybe lead us to Cher's killer,' Bud said clearly.  
'Okay, I think that will be all for now. Thank you for your help, Mr and Mrs Warwick. And again, our condolences.' The detectives stood, Edward escorting them to the door. Just as they were leaving the premises, a quiet melancholy voice asked, 'When can we see her? When can we say goodbye?'  
'Our medical examiner will be verifying cause of death, and once we've learned everything we can, we'll tell you. Don't worry, your daughter will be with you very soon.'  
'Thank you,' Naomi whimpered, and the door clicked shut.  
Bud and Sam were deathly silent as they entered the car.  
'You okay?' Bud asked, whilst glancing back as he reversed out of the drive.  
'As okay as you can be after the homicide of a young girl.'  
Bud kicked himself mentally at his daft question.  
'Let's see what Megan's got for us.'  
Sam couldn't stop thinking about the father's eyes. It disturbed her, whether she'd imagined it or not.  
'Did you find, the husband, I don't know, creepy? A bit shifty maybe?'  
'Not really, why? Is your intuition bells jingling again?'  
'There was just one point where he was looking at me...I don't know. I'm probably imagining it.'  
'We'll keep an eye on him anyway.'

* * *

At Philadelphia's medical center, Megan worked half heartedly at the cadaver. It was hard to remain collected. Whilst she worked Peter took photos.  
'The deceased has a fracture of the ulna, on her left hand, close to the wrist; I'd say it was a greenstick fracture considering the girl's age. Most probably caused when the body was, disposed of. An array of lacerations on the skin around the fracture, as well as on her legs and face; again, at fault of the location of the body, thorns, twigs etc. Consulting algor mortis, I'd say she's been dead at least 21 hours. '  
'Cause of death?' Peter enquired.  
'Well, I'd say these bruises around her neck highly indicate strangulation.'  
'Why would somebody strangle a child? What motive can they have?'  
At this moment, Ethan hurried in.  
'News; we found traces of semen on the girls clothes.'  
'Peter, pass me the UV light,' Megan requested. She switched it on and swept it over the corpse. Various parts glowed vividly. 'Cher was raped.'  
'Hey, what's that?' Ethan asked pointing to the girl's right forearm. Raw, blazing red, Megan wondered how she'd missed it. It was a scald - a star shape circled within a ring. Peter snapped an image.  
'Whoever did this was an evil motherf-', Peter cut off.  
Bud and Sam arrived, and Megan reported what she knew.  
'Been dead for at least 21 hours; cause of death - strangulation. Injuries post mortis caused by environment, and we have a burn on her right forearm, presumably inflicted by the murderer. Looks like it could be an impression of a ring. There are also signs of rape.'  
'Well, we told the parents, and the time of death fits in with their story. We'll need to check out the father's brother who babysat her that day,' Sam relayed her information. Curtis strode in.  
'That blood you found under the nails,' Curtis reminded. 'Only part Cher's.'  
'So, what? We're looking at a blood relative?' Megan established.  
'Looks like it.'  
'I think we should go check out this uncle.'

* * *

_Special thanks to surfchic91 for your support of my fanfics, this chapter's for you! And shall carry on updating with my sooperdooper powers of fast typing. (;  
_

_Bit gruesome this case, and I've no idea where it's coming from, but I'm going with it, hope you like. Apologies if my medical information and terms aren't perfect, not in medical profession..  
__**Next chapter: Sam, Bud and Megan check out the uncle. What will they find? Ooh, the suspense. **_


	3. Chapter 3

A few miles east of the Warwick's household, Megan, Bud and Sam, stood awaiting the uncle, Caledon.

A man, not dissimilar to his brother, opened the door.

'Good morning, Mr Warwick,' Megan greeted.

'This is about Cher I assume,' he mumbled. Megan noticed his eyes were red - raw with crying. 'Come in.'

The trio entered the household, which distinctly lacked the largeness and grandeur of his sibling's residence.

'Has your brother informed you about what happened, sir?' Bud queried.

'Yeah, yeah. Horrible, horrible. I couldn't believe it. Poor Cher,' he said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. 'She was a lovely, kind hearted girl. Pretty.'

A glint caught the medical examiner's eye.

'Would you mind handing me that ring please Mr Warwick,' Megan ordered pleasantly, her stern face belying the politeness of the question.

'What? This one?' he asked, tugging the ring off his middle finger, confusion plastered over his face. Megan snatched it, enclosing it in a plastic wallet, scrutinising it.

'I thought you were here for Cher? Why are you asking for my jewellery?'

'Oh, don't worry, this is all for Cher,' Sam reassured.

'Can I have a look at you arms, Mr Warwick?'

'What?' he exclaimed, confounded.

'Do as she says, sir,' Bud ordered.

Gazing at the detectives and medical examiner in bewilderment, he rolled up his sleeves. His left arm was blemished by three claw marks.

'We found your blood under Cher's nails, obviously from those wounds; was she defending herself? And the ring you just gave me - that's what you used to burn her with, wasn't it?'

'Woah! Are you accusing me of murdering my own niece? Why the hell would I do that?'

'I'm not accusing you of anything - her body is. Her body that you dumped after having your disgusting ways with her.'

Bud stepped in, before Megan could possibly attack him.

'Where were you at 1 am yesterday morning?'

'I was here. I was here, asleep.'

'Got anybody that can confirm that?'

'No.'

'Sorry, but your under arrest on suspicion for the rape and murder of Cher Warwick,' Bud stated, cuffing the uncle. 'You have the right to remain silent, anything you do say can and will be used against you in the court of law.

You have the right to have an attorney during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.' Whilst Bud droned the usual arrest speech, Caledon slumped in disbelief, his lips twitching with words he did not say. He stared at Sam and Megan as he was led out of his home.

'All the evidence points to him,' Sam said.

'Yes. I'd love to hear what he has to say.' They exited the house.

* * *

Sam and Bud were looming over a slouching Caledon, asking him about the night in question. Megan watched through the one way glass window.

'So, Caledon. You were babysitting Cher the day she died.'

'Yeah,' he shrugged.

'How long for?'

'About an hour, maybe two, then when Ed and Naomi returned, I left. I had some paperwork to do; then I never saw Cher again. I didn't do anything to her, believe me.'

'Sorry, evidence doesn't seem to agree with you,' Bud disputed. 'Like for instance, those scratches on your forearm.'

'Yes, they were from Cher, but it was an accident. I was spinning her around, and she was gripping real hard to my arm. My grip loosened a bit at one point, she slipped, scratched me. Didn't really notice it. That's the truth. I didn't get them from her trying to protect herself from me. I'd never do anything to hurt her.'

'How do you explain the burn, Mr Warwick?'

'I don't know.'

'Brilliant, convincing answer.'

'But how do you know whether it was my ring that was used to burn her?' he questioned.

'It was smothered with her DNA.'

'Wanna' make a confession yet?'

'No, because I didn't do this.'

* * *

'He's lying. It's got to be him,' Bud exclaimed.

'Yeah, but why? Why would he come back, past midnight, with a high possibility of being caught by either parent, just to kill his niece, with no motive,' Megan queried.

'Maybe, he's just a psycho,' Sam inputted.

'That, or maybe he was getting back at his brother. Come on, you saw his place; practically a rubbish dump compared to his brothers. Maybe older brother refused to help younger with money problems,' Bud added.

'Maybe.'

'But I still find the father a untrustworthy character. His eyes, they just weren't...nice,' Sam recalled.

'Me and Sam will question him a bit more,' Bud declared, gesturing to the slumped, weeping man in the room beyond the window.

'I'll work on the body, see if we can get any more information,' Megan replied, turning, strutting off in her shiny, black heels.

'Bye then,' Bud muttered sarcastically.

Of course, being Megan, she wasn't doing what she's said she'd be doing but decided to conduct her own questioning with the father.

'Ethan, can you check over the body again, see if there's anything we missed,' Megan requested. 'I would, but I'm going to question the father.'

'Sure.'

Megan left the building and made her way to the Warwick residence, putting on her sunglasses as she went.

* * *

The door was quickly answered. Edward Warwick was tall, slim with sweeping, midnight shade hair. He wore a tight, blue shirt which was tucked neatly into his jeans.

'Hello, can I help you,' he asked, pulling his shades down the bridge of his nose, flourishing his dark brown eyes, which studied Megan.

'Hi, I'm Megan Hunt, medical examiner -I'm on your daughters case,' she introduced. He nodded.

'Is there any news?'

'Well we've arrested your brother.' Edward gasped. 'We found his DNA under her nails, and a burn of a circled star; he used one of his rings.'

The man looked shaken, a hand held to his open mouth. 'I can't believe it. The bastard.'

'Could I come in please, Mr Warwick.'

'Call me Edward,' he told her as he welcomed her through the door.

The house was quiet.

'Where's your wife, Edward?' Megan enquired, taking a seat on one of the many sofas.

'She taken herself to her mother's, with our other child, Holly,' he informed. 'Drink?'

'A coffee would be grand, Edward, thank you.' Megan surveyed the living area - Bud was right; they certainly weren't short on cash.

The kitchen was the next room from the lounge, and out of the corner of Megan's eyes, she glimpsed the slim shadow of Edward, staring at her through the crack in the doorway. She pretended not to notice, and picked at her nails. Just ahead of her, was a fireplace; the stone beneath it bared traces of ash, and there was a vaporizing, but still slightly pungent, scent of wood smoke. What were they doing lighting a fire in the middle of Philadelphia's summer?

He returned with a tray.

'How do you take your coffee?'

'Black, two sugars.' Megan avoided looking into his eyes. He served her, she took a sip of the black liquid.

'Why are you here, Megan?' A chill was sent up her spine when he called her by name.

'You may have given me permission to call you Edward, but I don't recall asking you to call me by my first name - this isn't a friendly catch-up over coffee; this is about your daughter.' His eyes glinted, without the slightest movement of his head.

'Why are you here then, Miss Hunt?' he corrected, his voice sarcastic and without emotion.

'Well, I'm not quite understanding why your brother would kill your daughter. And, seeing as you two are the only two men that could possibly have raped and murdered her, thought I might make it fairer on Caledon, and target you as well.'

'What gives you the information to deduce that only me or my brother could have done this? It could have been any dirty-minded sod off the street.'

'No, I wouldn't say so. It seems unlikely that a stranger, that has no clue of the house's format, doesn't know where the child's room is, wouldn't know if you or your wife were awake or not - why risk it. Whereas, you; you know this house like the back of your hand, as does your brother I assume. But I would bet that you'd have more knowledge of your wife's sleeping patterns.'

'What's my wife's sleeping pattern got to do with this?' he asked, seemingly taken aback, but his eyes still glaring hungrily.

'Well, you would know when she was deep in sleep; the perfect time to strike.'

'You're mad.'

'Why were you having a fire, Mr Warwick? There's still ash in the grate. Bit odd having a fire in the middle of summer; unless you were using it to heat up a ring to burn your daughter with, managing to frame your brother in the process.' He stared at Megan, smirking. 'And I'd say by your unemotional reaction to this, I'd rather put you in a cell than your brother. Oh, and you know what's even better? I have a motive - because Cher wasn't your daughter, was she - she was Caledon's.' Megan got up to leave, but was hindered by a strong hand clamping around her wrist.

'Where do you think you're going Miss Hunt?

* * *

_Okay, new update. Hope it's okay. Please leave a review. And if you're waiting for the more romantic, hero stuff, don't worry! It's on its way! _

_**Next chapter: What will happen to Megan? Who will come to her rescue? The suspense hits unbearable climax! (jks) (; **  
_


	4. Chapter 4

Megan froze, staring at the fist hindering her movement.

'Get off me, Mr Warwick.'

'What? So you can go tell your police friends that I was the one to kill Cher? No chance.'

'So it _was_ you.'

'Well done, what do you want? A prize? Because I can give you one,' he replied, his voice husky, as he ran his free hand up her spine. Megan whimpered, and attempted to shake him off, but to no avail. She felt his hand twirling within her hair. 'I love your hair.'

'If you try anything; I'll scream this place down. Someone will hear. And my friend knows where I am; if you do anything, they'll know it was you.'

'Don't worry, by the time they get here, I'll be miles away, but I can have my fun before I go,' he growled, dragging her toward a chair across the room. She squirmed as he did so, but nothing she did loosened his grip. She changed tactics, letting him drag her for a moment as she discreetly positioned herself to place a powerful kick. She awaited the perfect moment, and when it came she brought her knee to his groin, to which he curled in pain, screaming. She ripped her arm from his grip and rushed to the front door.

She didn't hear a chase, but when she felt the cold door handle beneath her fingertips, that horrid clamp-like fist wrapped around her arm once again, causing her to halt so viciously, she swear she got whiplash.

'Woah! You're not going anywhere,' he hissed, landing a blow to her face that faded her world to black.

* * *

Sam and Bud finished up questioning Caledon Warwick, tired and irritable about not getting anywhere with him.

'I'm going to get a well-earned coffee,' Bud sighed. 'You want one?'

'No thanks. I'm going to see if Megan's got anything else that can help us in this investigation, see you in a bit.'

And with that Sam hurried off, but before she left, she hollered, 'But you can still buy me a drink later!'

Bud couldn't wait for this day to be over.

Sam hurried down the corridor, glancing at her watch. It was 3:00pm.

They'd spent another hour questioning Caledon, going round in circles frustratingly. Bud was so sure it was him, saying that if applied enough pressure, he would crack. But he didn't. And Sam wasn't so sure they'd put the cuffs on the right guy; she was just as unsure of that, as she was entirely sure that Megan shared her opinion, and had gone to question the father. And she was just as sure, that Megan was in trouble if she had.

She entered the medical examiner's office. There was no sign of Megan and when she saw Ethan, she asked, 'Hey Ethan? You seen Megan?'

'Yeah, about an hour ago. She said she'd gone to question the father.'

'And she's been gone an hour?'

'Yeah.'

With the answers she needed, she turned and practically sprinted out of the building.

* * *

It took her twenty minutes to reach the house. Their car was gone, and the blinds had been closed at the houses windows. Alone, she scampered up the pathway, pistol in hand. At the door, she slammed her fist hard, shouting, 'Philly PD! Open up!' When she got no answer, with a controlled and precise kick, the door tumbled.

The house was dark and eerily quiet, and with her assuring weapon aimed ahead, she crept stealthily into the living area.

The door was slightly ajar; within, was a murky darkness, silent. She tapped it open with her foot, and moved in. But too late did her senses warn her of the imminent threat, and with frighteningly stong force Edward kicked her hands. The gun dropped. With a few suspected dislocated or fractured fingers, Sam spun going for an elbow to the face of her attacker. He ducked low, bringing a fist of iron to her stomach. Air left her, but she refused to be beaten and attempted her elbow movement again. It impacted something, and the man gave a squeal of pain.

'What is it with you ladies, and the male area!'

As he cursed, Sam glanced around the room, desperate to see Megan alive.

The woman was spread across the sofa, her wrists tied to a table. Her face was bloody, but Sam was relieved to see that she was attempting a weak escape from her bonds.

'Sam,' she was barely audible.

A fist collided with her nose, and she roared, running at him so she pinned him against the wall. Two knees to the ribs and one final kick felled her. She muttered profanity, but painfully got to her feet. Her heart sank as Edward's eyes glinted, her own pistol trained upon her head.

'Game's up, Sam.'

* * *

_Again, I hope you enjoyed this update, and I hope that it has also compelled you to read on! If this update is a bit late for some of you, blame the Olympics and gorgeous weather. Watched the amazing, truly British, opening ceremony last night until 12:45, so I couldn't catch up on my night overload of fanfic writing as per usual. Then busy today enjoying weather, so this may seem rushed and brief, but didn't want to keep you hanging too long! _

_**Next chapter: I PROMISE. Hero and romance stuff is coming! What exactly happened to Megan, what will happen to Sam? Shall update as soon as possible for lovely readers. **  
_


	5. Chapter 5

'You put up a good fight. For a girl,' he sneered.

'Can I see my friend?'

'Yeah sure, but if you think about untying her, I'll shoot you both in the head.'

Sam stepped gradually to Megan, her eyes trained on the killer, the gun following her movement like a vulture waiting for its prey. When she reached the sofa, she grasped Megan's hand. Megan looked at her sadly, full of despair; it shocked Sam that Megan looked as if she'd truly given up. Megan never gives up. Her mascara was smudged, streaked down her face with tears. Blood trailed from her nose, and glistened on a wound on her head. Her shirt was unbuttoned, her skirt pulled high up her legs. What had this monster done? Sam brushed a falling tear from Megan's cheek.

'What have you done?'

'We just had a little fun,' he laughed. 'I was congratulating her for her detective skills.'

'You killed Cher.'

'Of course I did. The little...she wasn't even mine. She was my brother's. I needed a way to get Naomi and Cal back. But I didn't want to kill them, no: death is a freedom, not punishment. So I freed Cher. I punished the cheating wastes of space.'

Sam was speechless.

'I realised this new freedom creator within me was someone I wanted to be. Then you came, dear sweet Samantha. And I felt sorry for you.'

'Sorry for me?'

'Come on, don't tell me you don't actually know. That stupid, fat oaf of a partner. The way he looks at you. You seriously don't know?'

Sam kept her face stony, her fists clenched at her sides to prevent her foolishly attacking him for the disrespectful words he used to describe Bud.

'Then, sitting across from you, I decided to free you too. But, she,' he threw a finger at Megan, 'Was just for my pleasure. And to stop her from telling the police. And now, you're here. And now, I can free you Samantha.' As he spoke his psychotic words, he stalked toward Sam, with the stealth and power of a panther. She didn't move, as he caressed her cheek. Megan watched on in horror, wishing helplessly that she wouldn't get hurt. The rope around her hands were loosening; she worked as quickly and quietly as she could to free herself.

'People like you disgust me, Edward. You don't free people, you end their life. A life that could have changed the world, in large ways or small. You should be killing yourself, because your the worthless waste of space. Who wants you? Why don't you try turning your beliefs on yourself? Wouldn't you want to be free? Why don't you do everyone the honour?' She grunted as he gripped her hair, yanking it back so she looked up at his angular features.

'Because I am the enlightened one. I have been chosen to do the honours, and if I was gone, who'd be chosen to do this?' He bought the gun to her temple. The tip was the icy coldness of death. a horrid omen of her own imminent death. 'Any last words.'

Sam moved her eyes to meet Megan's. She was crying, her eyes burning with helplessness. 'Rot. In. Hell.'

A shot ricocheted through the room. A scream. The thump of a body falling lifelessly to the floor.

* * *

_Last cliffhangar I promise. Much love x _


	6. Chapter 6

Sam's eyes were closed. The painful tugging of her hair had disappeared. Silence was a raucous noise. She didn't feel the shot, her death had been painless. She didn't open her eyes.

Warmth surrounded her; it was loving and Sam fell into it.

'Sam.'

The gentle embrace materialized into a cage of protection. Her name was repeated like a wishful prayer. That voice was beautiful music upon her ears.

'Bud.'

Her eyes let in the light. Bud was staring at her, tearful. Splayed,

bleeding upon the laminate flooring, was Edward. An expression of

shock frozen upon his malicious features. Then she remembered Megan, and looked up to see Peter cradling her in his arms, kissing her repeatedly on the head. Her hands held him tightly.

'One: I think we better release Cal. Two: we really need that drink,'

Sam smiled to Bud.

* * *

Bud called a crew to come out and take away the body of Edward

Warwick. Bud repeatedly embraced Sam, as if to confirm that she was

all right, to prove her existence.

Megan was terribly shaken, and couldn't formulate words for about half

an hour after the death of her rapist.

Peter wouldn't leave her side, their hands permanently locked together. He caressed her face, whispering words of love and care into her ear.

Sam recalled the events to Bud, and when she concluded, he took her into his arms again.

After the half hour of silence, Peter's words of assurance as well

as her own, Megan started to flourish into her usual self. Then for the first time since Peter and Bud had arrived, Megan looked at Peter properly. Seeing him here now, after that time where she felt sure would never see him again, her emotions threatened to explode within her. She took her turn to assure him; to assure him that she was okay.

'Peter,' she stated, before throwing herself forward, cutting off his

answer with an affectionate kiss. Bud and Sam chuckled.

'We better go to the hospital and check up on the cut on your head,' Peter murmured.

'Oh, it's fine,' Megan disagreed.

'No. It's not. And we're going, even if I have to drag you there.'

'Fine,' she sighed. 'How are your fingers Sam? They look painful.' Sam

glanced at her fingers and hissed in pain as she saw the flowering

bruises on her knuckles and fingers.

'Looks like I'm not the only one paying a visit to the hospital,' Megan added.

Megan and Peter took one car whilst Bud and Sam took the other.

'How did you know where we were?' Sam questioned Bud, holding her

broken fingers.

'I went to the medical centre to join you, and when neither you or Megan were there, I asked Ethan. He said you'd rushed off to find Megan at the house. Obviously something wasn't right, so I called Peter, and we came over, and shot the lights out of the bastard.'

There was a pause in conversation as Bud drove and Sam watched the

world roll by outside the window.

'Thanks Bud.'

'No problem. It's what partners do.'

'I think I'll treat you to the drink tonight.'

'Yes, as soon as your hands are patched up.'

* * *

After the hospital visit, Peter forced Megan to go home with him, for

much needed rest and to see Lacey, despite her hopeless arguments. They bid farewell to Sam and Bud. Sam's fingers were wrapped in bandages, and Bud failed to mask a smile.

'What you laughing at Morris?'

'Oh nothing.'

Sam stared at him awaiting the answer.

'What? You just look like your morphing into some Egyptian mummy.'

Sam studied her fingers; the bandages were a bit thick and excessive.

'If I had full mobility of my fists, Bud Morris, you're arm would

be hurting you.'

'Better make good use of the time I get to make painless jabs at you then.'

'Don't forget, I still have full use of my legs.'

'Not the shins!' Bud gasped in mock-horror, stepping back as if to

protect his vulnerable legs. The detectives looked into one another's

eyes. Sam knew what Edward meant about the way he looked at her; she always had, but she wasn't sure if it was a boundary she could cross. Now she was certain that she could career past the boundaries, into the unknown. Bud brought up his right arm, 'Drink, Samantha Baker?'

'That would be great,' Sam took his arm and they exited the hospital, intent on getting that drink they had organised so early on in the day.

They chose a bar they hadn't been to before; it gave the impression to be a small, quiet place, and it was. They ordered their drinks and chatted. They stayed away from the events of the day; they were depressing and in the past.

After Sam's second drink, and Bud's first (because he was a responsible driver), Sam took his hand.

Hesitantly.

'Uh Sam,' Bud began to say something, but before her confidence depleted, she leant over and pecked him on the lips. He gazed at her warmly, she shyly glanced at the bar table, smoothing her hair with her free hand. 'You took the words straight out of my mouth.'

* * *

_Aaaargh! So glad I finished this chapter, got stuck with it most of the day. Settled to keep it shorter than I wanted. I hope this has been worth the wait; please review, any constructive criticism welcome! _

_Lots of love ~Meg _


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